


Full Circle

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Epilogue What Epilogue, M/M, Season 8, Spoilers, sheithmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 17:03:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17145617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni
Summary: Day number 33 on the Atlas is actually Christmas Eve. Keith comes to Shiro with a gift he's been holding onto a while, waiting for the right moment. With the whole crew preparing to celebrate the holiday, he decides there's no time like the present.





	Full Circle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lasersheith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasersheith/gifts).



> My gift for the Across the Universe Sheith Secret Santa. My giftee was lasersheith and I am super happy to present this soft piece for their sheithy present. Hope you enjoy! (PS this was written in the S8 timeline, but not terribly spoilery, mostly fluff.)

Day number 33 on the Atlas is actually Christmas Eve. The whole crew finds out as they start crawling out of their bunks at 0700 hours to find the halls decorated in fiber optic cables with little sprigs of various plant life on it. The mess hall is done up with bows made out of the extra locker room towels and there are rows and rows of red stockings hung on the farthest wall. It’s like no Christmas most of the crew had ever seen before, but one look and they knew the spirit was there. Most of them had forgotten, with time becoming a thing tracked by digital watches and Altean tickers. Days hadn’t meant much, only that they were passing on a mission that seemed futile more often than not. It doesn’t take much to realize that the Holts are behind it all, namely Colleen, who couldn’t pass up the chance to raid the dollar store of every last stocking they had before they left on the mission and went so far as to grow actual mistletoe in her spaceship greenhouse. Where morale had been dropping, the sudden burst of holiday spirit seemed to perk everyone up, and the Atlas comes to life with eager stories of traditional celebrations and family anecdotes. Hunk hasn’t really come out and said it, but he’s been holed up in the kitchen with his misfit crew of sous chefs, and everyone suspects that there’s a heartfelt holiday meal coming, which is probably one of the best gifts they could ever get light years from home. 

The meal is confirmed when the announcement is made for all crew to gather at 1600 and don’t be late. That had come directly from the Yellow Paladin of Voltron, and nobody would be wise to argue. Shiro ushers his crew off the bridge to go wash up for dinner, and heads back to his quarters to do the same. But before he can rejoin them in the mess hall, he hears a familiar whooshing noise. He chuckles to himself as he peeks out of the washroom doorway to see Keith standing near his bunk with his hands on his hips, glaring down at Kosmo. 

“We’ve  _ talked _ about this,” Keith scolds that space wolf that seems to get bigger by the day. “You can’t just go poofing me around the ship, especially not into people’s private spaces.”

Kosmo tilts his head, and Shiro swears he’s smart enough to know how to play Keith with an innocent look, because Keith is already sighing and dropping a hand to rub behind the ears. Kosmo senses Shiro’s approach first, pointing his nose in the captain’s direction and whuffling. Keith’s expression becomes sheepish. 

“Sorry, Shiro. I would have knocked, but  _ this guy _ thought breaking and entering was okay.” 

Shiro smiles and shrugs. “You didn’t really break anything when you entered, so nothing to be sorry for. Is everything all right?”

The tips of Keith’s ears turn red. “Y-yeah, everything’s fine, I just. Well, I came here to give you something.”

“Oh?” Shiro quirks a brow.

“When I was…gone, y’know with the Blade of Marmora, we’d do all of these strategic strike and recon missions on different planets, and I…” 

Keith shifts his weight from one foot to the other, a sign of nerves Shiro hasn’t seen since their Garrison days before the Kerberos mission. It’s charming, and he comes close enough to reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you homesick?” he gently prods.

“No — I mean, yeah, it kinda sucks not being able to go back to Earth until this is over, but that’s not what I’m getting at.” The stubborn look quickly replacing the nervous one is every bit as familiar to Shiro. “I found things that reminded me of you. But with everything that’s been happening, I never got the chance to give any of it to you. So since we’re celebrating Christmas today, well, no time like the present right?”

Shiro blinks down at him, truly startled. His own sense of emotional self-defense urges him to ask if Keith had just made a pun, but he refrains. Instead, his entire face softens and he pulls Keith into a hug against his chest, cheek against his hair. 

“You know you didn’t have to do that, right? You came back from those missions safely; that’s all I could have ever asked for.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” Keith huffs. “But I did, and that’s that.” 

Kosmo huffs in agreement from the perch he’s taken on Shiro’s bed.

Keith raises his hand, which has been closed in a fist this entire time, taking Shiro’s left one from where it rests on his hip from the hug. He doesn’t look Shiro in the face, he can’t, while he reveals a simple dark ring in his palm. Shiro’s heart seizes up in his chest, and he holds his breath without even realizing it. Keith busies himself with working it on to Shiro’s ring finger, obvious relief in his brow when it fits, a little snug but it sits nicely. 

“It…doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to.” Keith’s voice is low, unsure but determined. “It’s just…it’s a promise. To always be with you, no matter what. Being paladins didn’t change that, this war won’t change that. I hope that when we’re apart, it reminds you that I’ll never give up on you, just like you didn’t give up on me. Full circle and all that.” He twines his fingers with Shiro’s, and he still isn’t looking at him. 

“Keith…” Shiro lifts his hand, with Keith’s, careful not to loosen their hold. At first, he’d thought the ring had just been black stone, like hematite or onyx, but upon closer inspection, he can see little shifts of light. As if the material it’s made from had been rolled in dozens of tiny stars that chase one another around the circle. His eyes grow wider still. Keith truly is a child of the stars, and now he has a piece of that universe — that of Keith’s heart — wrapped around his finger, warm against his skin from Keith’s grip. His chest is tight, knees unsteady. He presses a shaky kiss to Keith’s knuckles before dragging him back into an embrace before his legs give out. Since he can’t make words work for him, his mind a white noise of everything good and safe in the midst of the chaos. Keith has always been that for him, now more than ever. His soft, trembling, “Yes,” speaks volumes to what Keith is offering, what they’ve always known is between them. 

Keith reaches to put his hand on the back of Shiro’s neck, pulling him down. The kiss that follows is soft in comparison to the urgency with which Keith had surged up to meet it. Shiro melts against Keith, giving all of himself to it, holding tight. His head spins and his heart races, as if all of his feelings for Keith have lit a fire along his nerves, deep in his bones, as vast as the galaxy. Keith is, and has been for so long, everything to Shiro. He feels like they’re falling, the world rushing past them while they hold each other close and kiss like the stars depended on it.

A resounding cheer startles them out of their kiss, and Shiro blinks in absolute horror as he finds himself looking around the mess hall. Rizavi is the one who’d let out that first triumphant yell, but it isn’t long before Lance wolf whistles and Pidge whoops excitedly. The urge to sink into the floor is so strong as the entire room erupts into enormous applause, peppered with more shouts and cheers of encouragement. Keith buries his face in Shiro’s chest, the red that had been in his ears spreading in a full flush across his cheeks and halfway down his neck. Shiro only has to wonder for a second how the heck they’d ended up in the mess hall entryway, but the heavy lean against the side of his leg tells a very clear story. He sends an admonishing look down to Kosmo, who stares back unrepentantly. Shiro tries to find a safe place in the room to look and settles on Colleen, who apparently isn’t very safe at all with the way she’s beaming. She points up above Shiro’s head, and he doesn’t even need to look to know what’s there, so he looks at Kosmo instead. 

“You,” he accuses, “are way too smart for your own good.”

Kosmo’s response is a non-committal whine. 

Keith groans. “It’s mistletoe, isn’t it?”

“’Fraid so, babe.”

Keith’s face gets even darker. “Merry Christmas,” he mumbles into Shiro’s shirt.

“Merry Christmas, Keith.”


End file.
